


The Freudian Slip

by garbagechute



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Tooth Rotting Fluff, i should be doing my homework right now, just a lil bit of angst, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:10:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7897516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagechute/pseuds/garbagechute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of tension, Spock accidentally reveals the secret he's been keeping. A get-together story.</p><p>inspired by this post: http://rahleighbecket.tumblr.com/post/61225024913/my-new-favorite-spirk-headcanon-is-that-spock</p><p>(this is probably already being done but oh well i need something to procrastinate with)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Incident

Jim was in quite the predicament.

The Enterprise had been assigned to visit a class-M planet, inhabited by an intelligent race that was not yet a member of the federation, only to find through a brief video message sent to the viewing screen that it had become tradition for the leading faction of the natives, a race of curiously gelatinous-looking humanoids, to threaten any visitors upon their arrival with a full-force attack.

“They are refusing additional visual contact, Captain,” Lt. Uhura reports, listening intently to alien dictator through her earpiece and quickly using a combination of the universal translator and her own linguistic skills to make sense of the imperfect translation. As she listens, her eyes widen, her expression dropping. Tension rises on the bridge.

“They have requested that the Captain - and only the Captain - beam down to sign a peace treaty immediately,” She pauses. “Or else they will attack in five minutes.”

To the surprise of the crew, Jim cracks a smile.

“A peace treaty? We hardly know them, who knows what such a document could entail?” He chuckles. “Surely, with such aggressive tendencies still ingrained in their behavior, they can’t possibly have weapons capable of getting through our shields - shields up, by the way, Mr. Sulu.”  
The helmsman follows the order, visibly relaxing at Kirk’s nonchalant statement.

“Shields up, sir,” he smiles.

Spock, leaning over his instruments, is already conducting a scan of the planet surface for weapons. He represses an intake of breath at his findings.

“On the contrary, Captain, while they are behind in behavioral evolution, their missiles appear to be quite advanced - I assume the nations of the planet have been involved in somewhat of a nuclear arms race, not unlike that of Earth in the late twentieth century. They could, as you would say, blow us out of the sky.”

Jim thinks for a moment. They couldn’t simply retreat - the federation wouldn’t give up on acquiring a new member, and such a response would likely lead the natives to attack a future visiting starship without warning, before it was even shielded. They couldn’t negotiate from the bridge - obviously these people were very impatient, and they were already running out of time. But beaming down could be a trap, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t sign a treaty, especially one that only represented a portion of the race, without extensive formal discussion - that would have to involve the federation, it would take weeks - and again, these people were not patient.

“Well then,” he decides, taking what he deems the best risk, “I’ll just... have to beam down and talk them out of all this nonsense.”

Spock’s heart skips a beat in his side. He thinks to himself.

_T’hy’la, please, I cannot bear the possibility of you being hurt._

He knows as well, of course, that this could be a trap, that the dangers facing Jim were endless. As many times as the Captain had gotten his way in these situations, ever the diplomat, Spock could never stand him putting himself in harm’s way, it filled him worry that he couldn’t ignore even with his shields. Worry that stemmed from the weight of the deepest emotion he’d ever felt, tucked away in his conscious.

He raises an eyebrow, partially at Jim’s constant recklessness, partially at his own simmering feelings, and locks eyes with the Captain’s confident, hazel gaze.

“Refusing to sign the peace treaty will only beleaguer the natives unnecessarily-” he begins, expertly preventing his voice from trembling as his mind continues to race with concern.

“Mr. Spock,” Jim interrupts, “Chances are it’ll be alright, I’ve done this a millio-”

“The odds of the natives’ request hiding a trap or other malicious intent are approximately seventeen-thousand-five-hun-”

“Spock,” Jim exclaims, firmly, but with his usual friendly tone, “This is the only reasonable option. Lieutenant, inform Scotty to prepare the transporter, Mr. Spock, you’ve got the conn-”

Spock feels an, albeit illogical, flare of anger with Jim’s unchanging sense of disregard for his own safety in favor of diplomacy. Images of all the times Jim has been injured from such a risk, sometimes mortally, flash through his mind, making his heart thud yet again. If he gave into his human side, his eyes might start to water. He protests again, quickly - a bit too quickly - voice tinged with annoyance.

“Please, consider another course of action, ashayam,”

It slips out before he can stop it - immediately he’s mentally cursing himself to no end, the temperature on the bridge seems to rise a dozen degrees, Sulu and Chekov make a silent agreement to gossip about this later, Nyota gasps, clasping her hand to her mouth - covering a smile, unbeknownst to the crew - and Jim, Jim is obviously taken aback, his eyes widen and his head sharply turning just a few degrees to the left - 19.36, Spock calculates, mind still rampant with mortification.

“What...did you just call me?” he asks, rough, but perhaps hurt, seeming to have suddenly disregarded the beam down situation.

Spock can see Nyota shift in her seat, clamping her hand tighter over her mouth as she tries not to laugh, and he snaps his head toward her, begging her non-verbally not to say a word about this, not now, not ever.

With Jim’s confused stare still on Spock, she drops her hand, allowing Spock to see a second of her smile before straightening her face and clearing her throat. His secret is safe with her - for now.

“Captain, two minutes,” she warns.

Despite time being of the essence, Jim takes an additional moment to take Spock in again. They’re painfully face-to-face now, awkward and unsure.

“Right, Lieutenant,” he nods, turning to the turbolift. Just before leaving the bridge, he locks eyes with Spock one more time.

“Spock, the conn,” he says, softly this time.

And then, to Spock’s great confusion, Jim smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm TOS trash lemme kno if ya dug it
> 
> i'll be writing more chapters even if no one asks for them


	2. Bones Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim goes crying to Bones.

“Bones, I need a drink,” Jim sighs, as he enters the doctor’s quarters and sits down at his table.

Everything had, in fact, turned out alright on the planet. It wasn’t a trap, and Jim used his charm, as well as his logic- Spock must be at least a little proud of him - to convince the natives not only to end their cold war, but to join the Federation as well. But knowing Spock had been annoyed with him to the point of reverting to the Vulcan language - he wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but he felt awful.

When word got around to Bones, busy in sickbay with a small influx of common cold patients, of yet another successful mission thanks to the daring Captain, he simply mumbled “Remarkable” sarcastically, shaking his head and guessing Jim would be in high spirits. But from the look on the man’s face, Bones realized this was going to be a long evening of unofficial therapy.

“Damnit Jim, I’m a doctor, not a bartender,” he says, already getting out the glasses and a bottle of Romulan Ale.

He sits down, pouring Jim’s drink, then his own.

“What is it this time?” he asks, sighing himself.

Jim takes a long sip, then starts.

“I think...Spock cursed at me today. On the bridge, we were, well, arguing about what should be done about the attack threat, and he called me something in Vulcan when I said I’d beam down.”

Bones knows. As irritating as the hobgoblin is, he can tell how much he cares about his Captain. He’s known for a while. But seeing the hurt on his best friend’s face, he goes into his default anti-Spock rant.

“Why that goddamn, green-blooded hobgoblin-”

“Well, I’m not sure-” Jim interrupts.

“What do you mean you’re not sure?! You oughta be able to tell if you're being cussed out - I can’t fucking believe it, whenever that pretentious Vulcan decides to show an emotion, it’s out of spite, why I-”

 _Spite,_ Jim thinks. That’s it - his constant overconfidence has finally gotten to Spock, and despite everything they’ve been though, Spock thinks of him as an annoyance.

_Why does he put up with me?_

He thinks of all the times Spock has corrected him, obviously rolling his eyes mentally. Those deep, brown eyes, fiercely staring at him on the bridge today -

He’s spiraling - this is far from normal for James T. Kirk, the man who's usually sure of everything. The alcohol can’t possibly be hitting him already - no, this is something else. Something he’s felt before, but never quite this strongly. Just as the realization starts to stir, he's hit with a painful thought.

“Oh god, he hates me, doesn’t he?”

Suddenly, it clicks for Bones. The look in Jim’s eye, the tremor in his voice, the fact that he would jump to such a dramatic conclusion. He’s seen Jim like this before, too many times to count. He drops his grumpy pretense immediately.

_Idiots. They’re crazy about each other._

He finishes his drink and pours himself another.

“No Jim, he doesn’t hate you. Whatever he said, I’m sure it wasn’t meant to be aggressive. The dynamic you two have - it’s...well, as Spock would say-”

“Fascinating,” Jim finishes. He grins slightly, relaxes a little. And he's reminded of every time he's laid down his life for Spock, because the thought of losing him was unbearable, the countless chess matches, watching those beautifully thin fingers hover over the pieces, warm banter of luck and miracles, green-tipped ears in the cold and science blue and logic and -

And now that he knows what he’s feeling, his heart is pounding. He needs to spill it.

“Bones, I…” He swallows. He knows saying it out loud will make it feel even more real than it already does.

“I think... I think I love him.”

“Of course you do, you blabbering fool!”

 Jim is surprised, but, then again, of course Bones knows. He looks down, smiling and shaking his head.

"What am I going to do?”

"Talk to the hobgoblin, for God's sake!”

For a second, Jim thinks no, no he can’t possibly do that, it’s too great of a risk, a risk of their friendship, their brotherhood.

But he’s in the risk-making business, isn’t he?

 

He spends the rest of the evening, much to Bones' stated annoyance yet secret enjoyment, gushing and plotting his advances out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this right after chapter 1 lol, not quite how i wanted it to turn out but here it is, there'll be a couple more chapters tomorrow probably


	3. Nyota Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyota confronts Spock.

A buzz at the door jolts Spock from his meditation.

Usually, he would have ignored it, but he was having trouble focusing anyways.

His breath catches as he thinks it might be Jim for a moment, but then he remembers that the Captain always uses his override to barge in on Spock, He mentally sighs in relief as he rises to open the door.

“Spock! How are you?” He’s greeted cheerily by the communications officer, already changed out of her uniform and into a comfortable wide-sleeved dress.

“Good evening, Lieutenant Uhura. I assume you are visiting me to discuss the incident that occurred earlier on the bridge today. I regret to inform you that I do not wish to have such a conversation at this time, nor at any time in the future.” He reaches over to press the button that would close the door, but Nyota is too fast for him, squeezing her way into his quarters.

“Nonsense, Spock,” she grins, turning his desk chair and sitting down, practically making herself at home. She wouldn’t normally conduct herself so casually around the stiff-mannered Vulcan, but she's excited to get him to talk.

“So,” she continues, “You’re interested in the Captain?”

“I do find him to be a very fascinating individual worthy of study, yes,” he stalls.

“Commander, you know exactly what I mean. Don’t make me threaten to to tell,” she jokes.

Spock raises an eyebrow, moving to sit at the edge of his bed to face her. He takes a moment to collect himself. 

“After today’s events, it would be...illogical to deny it.”

“Well, how are you going to tell him?” she asks.

“I do not plan on informing the Captain”

“Spock, you can’t just call a man ‘beloved’ in front of the whole bridge and brush it off like nothing happened.”

Ever since that embarrassing moment only a few hours ago, Spock had deeply regretted ever allowing himself to mentally refer to Kirk with terms of endearment. It was a foolishly human habit that had resulted in an even more foolish slip.

“It is fortunate that Jim was obviously unaware of the term’s meaning, resulting in only confusion rather than disgust with me.”

“Spock, he probably thinks you cursed at him, you’ll have hurt his feelings. For him and for you, you have to tell him,” Nyota exclaims in an almost motherly tone.

“I would rather he be momentarily angry with me for my apparent outburst than permanently unwilling to interact with me due to me illogical infatuation”

She shakes her head.

“He wouldn’t shun you if he knew - and he isn’t angry with you. Tell me, what did he do when he got in the turbolift?”

Spock raises an eyebrow again.

“I do not see the purpose of relating an action to you that you were present to observe.”

“What did he do?” She presses.

He shifts in his seat minutely, remembering.

“It was...most curious. He smiled at me.”

“And why do you think he did that?”

“It is a tendency of Jim’s to smile in even the most uncalled for situations for a positive facial expression.”

“Yes, yes I suppose so, but Spock...he smiled because he cares about you. Even if you hurt him, even if he’s confused, even if he was angry - which he isn’t - he cares very deeply for you. He won’t shun you for your feelings. Tell him.” She stops herself before she tells him that she knows they’re reciprocated, even if Jim hasn’t realized it himself. She’s been observing them for months, and Jim is particularly readable. The way he stares at Spock when he thinks the science officer isn’t looking, the softer tone he reserves only for him, the way he leans into him whenever they’re standing together, the way he beams like the sun whenever Spock is around. It’s obvious the Captain is smitten. But Spock can barely accept his own feelings - she knows he’s trying with all his might to repress them - yes, it’s up to him to find out that Jim feels the same.

Spock considers her comments. She has, he admits, come to a very logical conclusion. But the thought of finally telling Jim, after all these months - years, actually - it terrifies him to no end.

But she’s right.

“I will...consider your suggestion, Nyota,” he says honestly. “But only on the condition that you promise not to tell him yourself.”

She laughs.

“Oh Spock, I never was going to in the first place,” she grins and rises to leave, singing “Goood luckkkkk!” on her way out. 

Spock returns to his mat on the floor, and thinks, for a moment, that perhaps his mistake had been a “blessing in disguise,” as the good Doctor would say.

  
It’s enough self-consulation to allow him to slip into a comfortable meditation, an unexpected sense of hope quietly buzzing in the back of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually pretty happy with how this one turned out! i headcannon that in TOS Spock was pinning before Jim started having feelings back, and even then, Jim is too oblivious to realize it until it's staring him in the face - but don't worry, he's gonna act on it just like the confident captain we all know and love :)
> 
> last chapter will be up later tonight or tomorrow morning (what am i doing with my life i've written 3/4 of a fic in a day)


	4. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock, together at last.

Alpha shift was, for the most part, uneventful.

Things had calmed down in sickbay enough for Bones to come up to the bridge and visit.

“Mornin’ everyone,” he grumbles, receiving bright greetings in reply from the crew. He makes his way over to Jim’s side.

“Boring day, isn’t it, Jim?” he asks, casually.

“Yes, I’m afraid so, although it is a nice break from all the recent action,” he replies.

Jim looks up at him, and the Doctor shifts his gaze to Spock, then back to Jim, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jim can feel himself blushing, butterflies tumbling in his stomach.

“I certainly could use some recreation, though“ he adds.

“How about a game of chess tonight, Mr. Spock?” Jim asks, a little louder than necessary, turning towards his First Officer. He looks back at Bones quickly, who beams and nods inconspicuously, as if to say _Good job, Jimmy-boy!_

Spock suddenly feels warm, he turns to the Captain, catching those comforting hazel eyes grinning up at him.

“I would enjoy it, Captain.” he says, deciding against a witty comment on how he has never refused a game, and would have no reason to do so now. He’s just grateful that Jim has been kind to him today, seeming to have completely forgotten yesterday’s incident.

“Excellent,” Jim exclaims, returning to the PADD he was reading forms on, for fear that any more eye contact with Spock will have him looking like an absolute tomato.

“A Vulcan who actually _enjoys_ things?” Bones teases. “Jim, you’re rubbing off on him!”

Jim shoots a look at Bones, who is smiling mischievously yet again.

“Doctor, it is illogical to deprive oneself of enjoyment in life,” Spock replies, surprising himself a little. He chooses not to comment on the Doctor’s use of the phrase “rubbing off -” quickly shooing the images that come to mind away before they end up distracting him for the rest of the day.

“Amen to that, Commander!” Uhura exclaims, throwing Spock a knowing grin. Spock again begs her with his blank expression not to say anything. She shakes her head and turns back to her work.

_________________________________________

Jim is pacing the floor of his quarters, mentally acting out possible exchanges, when the door buzzes. He takes a quick, deep breath.

“Come in,” he says, attempting to cover up his nerves with his command voice.

The doors swish open, and in walks his First, well-postured and mysterious as always.

He’d been trying not to think about his melted insides all day, focusing on his duties, but in this moment, he wonders how it took so long for him to realize his feelings. He knows that despite his handful of infatuations with dazzling women and men and others, it’s always been Spock. He sits at his desk, hands gently clasped, beaming up at the commander.

“Good evening, Jim” Spock nods, taking his usual seat across from Jim.

Jim is suddenly aware, more than ever, of how much he loves the sound of his name when Spock says it, and he’s so glad that Spock has gotten out of the habit of calling him “Captain” off-duty. If he wasn’t sure before that Spock hadn’t been angry with him yesterday, he definitely is now.

“I didn’t see you at dinner,” Jim comments, setting up the tri-dimensional chess, angled a little further to the side than usual so he has a better view of that gorgeous face. “Everything alright?”

“I elected to return to my quarters after duty to meditate a certain...matter-”

Jim feels a wave of protectiveness.

“Did you eat anything?” he interrupts, chess pieces forgotten.

Surprise flashes in Spock’s eye.

“Yes, I did.”

“Good, good,” He nods. “Sorry for interrupting - what’s on your mind?”

“It is...of a certain, personal nature...”

Jim’s breath hitches. It’s abnormal for Spock to pause so much, and to be stalling like this. Could it be that….he dares not think it, not just yet. But could it? He remembers Bones’ insistence that he talk to Spock, and realizes that it could be.

 

Spock’s mind has never been so scattered, he's somewhat concerned by how intensely he's feeling, even after hours of meditating - albeit not very well. He had decided that it was time to “throw caution to the wind” and explain everything. After all, Nyota’s optimism had led him to believe, hopefully correctly, that he would not be rejected - he’s calculated to the odds of it to 14672 to 1. Yet he still feels as if he's taking the greatest risk of his life.

“Yesterday, when you were about to beam down to the surface of M-21Z, I referred to you with a Vulcan term that you evidently did not understand. In the moment, I was overcome with worry that you could be harmed on the planet, and annoyed, as I have often been, at your willingness to risk your safety for diplomacy. I am grateful that the mission was ultimately successful, however I have become aware that the care I felt for you in that moment, that I have had for some time and do continue to feel, can no longer be kept to myself, as disastrous as the results of revealing them may be to our friendship...

He breaths.

_He must know._

"...the definition of the Vulcan term ‘ashayam,’ Jim...is ‘beloved.”

Jim’s world is swirling. Stars are being born in explosions of heat and light in his mind and his heart is beating out of his chest in a symphony like no composer could ever imagine and Spock - _oh, Spock_ \- Spock is still talking.

“I understand, of course, if you do not feel the same-”

“-Spock-”

“-and will be content to remain at your side in whatever context you prefer-”

“-Spock-”

“- for I have been, and always shall be your-”

“- _Spock!_ ”

Spock stops rambling and locks eyes with Jim - he’s not sure when he started staring at the floor. Hazel nebulas are twinkling at him.

“I’m in love with you, too”

“As I have attempted to explain to you many times in the past, it is illogical to be ‘in love’ with an individual one has yet to experience a romantic relationship with.”

_Jim has just confessed his love for me, and yet I have reverted to pointing out flaws in logic. Unbelievable._

Spock realizes that the statement is really for himself, but he’s incredibly embarrassed that it’s the first thought that came to mind at Jim’s revelation, and that he expressed it verbally without prior thought. Only Jim can make him slip so uncharacteristically, so often.

 

“Then be mine, Spock. I’ll prove it to you.” Jim says, using his signature flirty grin and borderline-bedroom voice. Only this time, it isn’t a ploy for a one-night-stand, it’s authentic, and he thanks himself for having practiced his romanticism all these years - it’s always been leading up to this one, sparkling moment, hasn’t it?

Spock is blushing green, and it’s the most adorable thing Jim has ever seen. Besides, you know, Spock in general. The corner of his lip turns up ever so slightly, and it’s beautiful.

 

“Yes, Jim.” There’s a beat, then Spock holds out two fingers with his right hand, hoping Jim will understand.

Jim’s Vulcan may be inadequate, but he does know what this means. Slowly, without breaking their trance-like stare, he brings up the same two fingers on his own hand, and touches them lightly to Spock’s.

 

The sensation is electric, and Spock can’t help but lower his gaze like a shy teenager, trying and failing not to allow his smile to stretch.

 

Ever so gently, Jim interlaces their fingers, and now Spock’s breath hitches. Jim rises to pace around the desk, Spock shifting in his seat, still seated, to face him again. Jim uses his left hand to tilt the Vulcan’s head up. Glimmering chocolate eyes meet his, singing affection like he’s never seen before, it’s almost too good to be true.

Spock rises, towering over him by a couple inches now. Jim soaks in all his features, bringing up a hand to caress a jade-tinted cheek.

“Spock,” he says, almost whispering.

“Jim,” comes the reply, matter-of-factly, but laced with emotion Jim is delighted that he can detect.

“Can I kiss you?” Jim asks.

“Jim,” Spock says, lightly squeezing their interlocked hands. “You already are.”

Jim breathes a laugh - he lives for Spock’s humor. Goodness, he lives for _Spock._  His eyes slowly close as he leans in, and just before their lips touch, he hesitates for a half-second, both teasing and relishing the moment, one he knows they’ll remember forever.

Then, they're kissing.

 

It’s like nothing Spock’s ever felt before. Jim tastes like honey and golden slumbers, their lips exploring together in slow harmony for what feels like decades. He’s dreamt of this, yearned of it, for so long, and now it’s really, truly happening.

 

At some point, Jim finds himself being pulled in closer by strong arms, and his fingers are buried in that raven hair soft as fine silk. His stomach is doing wild acrobatics and his mind is screaming _SpockSpockSpock_ on repeat.

 

Jim breaks away from the kiss to breathe, smiling as Spock tugs on for a second more, parting reluctantly.

“Stay with me tonight, Spock,” he says, low, their foreheads touching.

 

“Jim…” Spock leans down to press a kiss to Jim’s jaw, his neck…

“Woah there, Spock,” Jim chuckles. He’s beyond enthralled by how much Spock wants him, brief flashes of how easily, how perfectly things could escalate flash before him, how much he wants them to. But no, this is special. This rose blossoming between them, he can’t take it for granted. No, he’s going to do this right. Slow. The way he sees it, they have all the time in the world.

“Let’s just cuddle for now, hmm?” He suggests. He can feel Spock smile shyly against his neck before he rises to touch their foreheads together again.

“Computer, lights at 2%,” Jim commands, almost a whisper. In the mostly-dark room, he breaks contact with Spock, knowing he’ll be touching him again in a moment. He sits at the edge of the bed, where he removes his boots and uniform, leaving himself in boxers and a black t-shirt.

“Feel free to get comfortable, darling,” he chuckles, as he folds everything neatly - a habit he took up when Spock first commented on the disarray of his quarters, what feels like eons ago.

Spock follows, sitting on the opposite edge of the bed, where he removes and folds everything but his thermals.

Together, they climb under the covers, immediately interlacing limbs and locking lips again.

There they remain, whispering dawning memories and confessions of love between kisses for many hours.

And when Jim falls asleep, Spock whispers one more word.

_“Ashayam”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bOY was this fun to write! i love these two so much omg, hope you enjoyed aLL THE TROUPES AND CLICHES WOO
> 
> and don't get me wrong, i love smut with all my shipper heart, but i think jim's gentleman side would kick in their first night together, so flUFFF (who knows what happens the SECOND night, though ;) )
> 
> lemme kno if ya dug it, i think i've gotten my urge to write out for now, at least enough to finally get back to being actually productive in life, as one must, but i hella appreciate comments, even spelling and grammar corrections, it's 2am so i bet this is full of 'em.
> 
> anyways, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
